


Send Her My Love

by cosmotronic



Series: Journeys [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Holtzbert Week, Random & Short, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 10:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11461959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmotronic/pseuds/cosmotronic
Summary: What sort of person gives another person a knife?Holtzbert Week Day Two.





	Send Her My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Day two, I'm still here.
> 
> I give you the short and sweet story of the Swiss Army Knife, a variation on a common theme ;)

 

What sort of person gives another person a knife?

These are not a big things, but normal people give each other pretty flowers, or delicious chocolates, or giant over-stuffed teddy bears. Not a battered bit of steel and plastic, a token of affection.

They are not grand gestures, but normal people do things like bring each other coffee how they like it, or complement their hair, or offer a walk in the park. They don’t hand out ways to incapacitate a potential attacker, a declaration of intent.

Holtz knows she’s not normal, and that’s okay.

Because normal people don't flirt at the business end of a blowtorch, either, or design equipment to capture ghosts, or save the world by setting off a nuclear reaction in the heart of New York City.

Erin liked all those things, and she liked the knife too.

But Holtz wonders if Erin ever suspected the meaning behind the gift.

Erin kept it, of course. And Holtz is glad because it helped Erin to save her life, in the end. Save her and Abby and Patty from being crushed by a giant marshmallow man during the apocalypse, which is a definite plus.

She didn’t replace the knife for herself, somehow it didn’t seem right to cheapen the sentimental value with a swift replacement. It was an old friend, a constant pocket companion. Now she just uses an old switchblade when she needs one for working on the go, and makes do with her overalls and belts full of tools.

Keeps her hands busy in other ways.

Sees Erin holding it sometimes, running her fingers over it or fiddling with the various parts. Erin has busy hands too, she noticed that early on. She watches Erin play with the screwdriver, then the clippers. Six tools, not seven. The toothpick is missing.

Erin's fingers stop sometimes and rub over the initials carved clumsily into the red plastic, and Erin glances down and smiles at the _JH_ speaking back at her.

And Holtz thinks maybe Erin does understand the gesture, a little more now than in the moment.

She dares to hope, anyway, and continues to dance and design and save the world, for Erin.

 

* * *

 

What sort of person gives another person a knife?

Holtz finds it sitting on her workbench one day, about two years later. Two years later to the day, actually. Two years since Holtz made her declaration with the most meaningful gift and the boldest gesture she knew.

She knows it’s from Erin, stares dumbly at the neat presentation box, tied up with a perfect bow and a small note that simply says _Jill_.

Opens the box slowly, holding her breath. Picks up the knife, shiny and new, turns it over in her hands. Rubs her fingers over the initials carefully engraved into the red plastic, glances down and smiles at the _JH+EG_ that speaks of so many wonderful things.

Holtz knows that Erin did come to understand the gesture, a little while afterwards.

Made a gesture of her own a few weeks later, with a compliment and a coffee overloaded with sweetness and a shy offer to join Holtz on a scrapyard foray. It’s certainly not a hand-in-hand walk in the park, but it meant more to both of them and they both know it.

They’ve danced together, ever since, and given each other many normal gifts and done many normal things together but it’s the odd and special moments that Holtz likes best, and Erin likes too.

Moments that stick in a bed of precious memories, to shake awake and smile upon. Moments like a knife presented in place of a flower. And now, in lieu of an anniversary gift?

Seven tools. The toothpick is missing, to match it’s mate, but there is another addition that makes up the numbers, takes her breath away, makes her fingers falter.

A shiny band attached to the small loop of the keyring. It’s fairly plain, brushed silver and a stripe of white gold. No stones to catch on her work or finicky details to get in the way. It’s simple, and perfect.

A declaration, a question, and the boldest gesture she has ever seen.

She looks up at Erin stood in the doorway, toothpick between her grinning lips, daring to hope.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Emergency dental work via my [tumblr](https://cosmotronic87.tumblr.com/).


End file.
